WORDS LIKE LIGHT 

Wednesday, October 20, 2021

IMMEASURABLE

            I’ve spent most of my life believing that everything is measurable – capable of being set apart, analyzed, and appraised. Life, to me, was an object, or a series of objects, all of which had a beginning and an end, and thus could be accurately plumbed and quantified. Most importantly, I believed the person called ‘me’ had a start and a finish, a front and a back, a top and a bottom, and therefore was able to be set apart and objectively considered as a separate ‘thing’ – but also was able to be attacked and injured – and even destroyed – by other separate, measurable ‘things’. Life, for those early years in my life, was a scary proposition, filled with measurable ‘objects’ competing with other ‘objects’. 

            Now, though, I rest in the wonderful understanding that all of life is immeasurable. There are  no beginnings or endings – none whatsoever – but just the endless flow of endless life. I still sometimes fall back into the habit of measuring things – Has this been a ‘good’ day? Do I have ‘enough’ money? Is my patience large enough to handle any adversity? – but more and more now, I am able to step back and see the boundlessness of everything. It’s like life is a shoreless, bottomless, and surfaceless ocean, and the phenomenon called ‘I’ is simply one of its countless stunning and measureless ripples. When I see life like that, as it truly is, then living becomes a free-flowing and risk-free adventure – not something to be analyzed, measured, and worried about, but simply stared at in wonder, appreciated, and loved.

SAILING AWAY

Into the night he sailed. His sorrow
was simply another star in the sky,
another sound of the summer night.
The only cause of sorrow is separation,
and that had disappeared as soon
as he slipped past his selfishness
into the immeasurable ocean of the present.
An impressive life had been looking for him,
and he felt it had found him
on this night of swimming stars.
His mind wore a loose yellow shirt
as he sailed along, his sorrow stretching
behind him like disappearing lights.

Yesterday, we had a wonderful lunch at Cafe Flo, on the Lieutenant River, and here is our view from our table on the lawn …

And here’s our chalkboard poem for today …

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